


A Devoted God

by Officer_Jennie



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [37]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Drabble, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18772105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Officer_Jennie/pseuds/Officer_Jennie
Summary: "His temple is old. Ancient. A relic of ages past, rebuilt and torn down and built back up again."





	A Devoted God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raendown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/gifts).



> Inspired by raendown's March of the Drabbles, specifically chapter 14.
> 
> When the fanfic's so good you end up writing fanfiction for the fanfiction

His temple is old. Ancient. A relic of ages past, rebuilt and torn down and built back up again. His people worship a version of him, bow and pray to the flames, search for wisdom in the flickering light as the priests preach translations of translations of translations.

None know who walks among them. Whose boots click down the polished halls, gloves fingers running against cool walls, his mind’s eye wandering to the past. His devotion is without question, every divination and reading like a gift from the fire god himself sent through him.

The theory is half right, at the very least.

He’s lost track of the travelers that have stopped by his temple, too many to count over the years he’s spent there. Some came to buy trinkets, talismans meant to protect them on their journeys, blessed by their god’s graces and burnt in the flames once they returned safe.

Evening comes as it always does. Fresh incense, candles lit by the alter. Birds in the rafters settling in for the night, the orphans who made their home in the temple busy sweeping the leaves off the porch and steps, doors open to let the autumn breeze roll in.

A shadowed figure in the corner gives him pause, hand resting on a pillar near the entrance. His clothes speak of the road, cloak frayed and boots coated in dust and mud, a pack of possessions laying on the ground next to him. It isn’t the first wanderer to find some respite in the temple yet for some reason Madara can’t seem to make his eyes pass over him, can’t seem to dismiss him as he has so many others.

To say little happens in his life is a lie, yet he’s never been able to resist the draw when it calls. Candles flicker and cast minuscule shadows in the dying sunlight as he approaches the traveler, watching the man twitch and lean back just enough to meet his gaze.

Red eyes. There’s a fire in them, though it is dulled in a fashion. So that’s what calls to him.

“Has the light guided your journey well?”

He can see irritation flicker across the traveler’s face. Sees the man debating his answer before giving in with a deep sigh, pushing himself off the ground and dusting himself off.

“No, the light has not- I have never sought out the fire gods for guidance.”

If he hasn’t had Madara’s attention before, he certainly does now. “You hail from other lands, then.”

“Yes. My home is- was in water country.”

The traveler’s eyes focus elsewhere, on the flickering light or the old scriptures on the wall he cannot tell. It only makes him more curious, studying the way his shoulder’s stiffen yet sag under a weight he cannot see.

“The water gods do not answer in this land. Praying to them here will gain you no aid.”

“They have never answered me.” The bitterness is palpable, disgust evident in the curl of his lips. A sentiment mirrored easily by Madara, his own sneer almost baring his teeth.

Never has he ignored those who call to him, no matter if his answer is what they wanted or not. He takes it as a personal offense that someone in his temple has been ignored by his homeland’s watcher; clearly it is left to him to right this wrong.

“What guidance do you seek?”

“I-“ The traveler turns back to him, brows pinched together, hesitance in the flicker of his gaze. “How does one seek guidance from the flames?”

Madara can’t help but roll his eyes, waving his hand. “Most formalities and rituals are flash and show. Useless. Ask away.”

“I’m looking for someone.” More hesitance, though it seems to come from another source now. The traveler runs a hand through his hair, tousling silver locks further, dust from the road floating away in the last rays of sunlight. “My brother. I need help finding him.”

“You lost your brother?” An odd concept, losing track of one’s kin. Madara has always considered family of utmost importance, and can’t help but be baffled by the prospect of not knowing where his brother is.

“Lost is…one way of putting it.” He shifts his pack to the other hand, no doubt tired from carrying it all day. “I’ve never actually met him.”

“Never met-!” He stares incredulously at the traveler, whose cheeks have begun to color under his scrutiny. “Do the waves not understand the importance of family?”

“Well, I was banished, so you tell me.” No matter the drawling tone, there’s hurt in those words.

That, if nothing else, makes up Madara’s mind. Without bothering to question the man further he takes hold of his arm, leading him further into the temple and ignoring the startled protests it earns him. It’s only once they reach the private quarters that he explains himself, throwing a door open to one of their spare rooms and putting as much authority into his voice as possible. Which, in his humble opinion, is quite a lot.

“We’ll be leaving shortly after dawn, so rest while you can. The light will give you guidance.”

He doesn’t let the man question him further. With a throw of his head he storms back down the hall, more than miffed at the circumstances that lead the man to him.

If the other gods would abandon him, he would simply take up their slack - as he always did, no matter that it infuriates him every time. Besides…

He pauses in the hallway, glancing back over his shoulder even knowing the traveler no longer stands there. There’s a fire in him, smoldering perhaps but not quite snuffed out. And if Madara knows anything it’s that, with enough nurturing, even embers could burn bright like the sun. Perhaps the man had been dampened by the waves but he will certainly flourish in the hands of someone willing to aid him.


End file.
